


21 (twenty-one)

by RaspberryJuli



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F and F/M/M couples appear as supporting characters, F/M, Fake Science, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, No Angst, No Drama, Not COVID-19 Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, just people befriending each other and falling in love, unnamed female protagonist that can be read as reader or oc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29542572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaspberryJuli/pseuds/RaspberryJuli
Summary: A story about true friendship and love that grows like a half-heartedly nurtured plant in the corner of the living room of someone who loves flowers but regularly forgets how photosynthesis works - fucking slow.(this is a non canon compliant no drama fanfiction with an unnamed female protagonist that can be read as either Reader or an OFC)
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Past Peter Parker/Michelle Jones, Peter Parker/Original Female Character(s), Peter Parker/Reader
Kudos: 6





	21 (twenty-one)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there :) welcome to this small story. before you dive into the no suspense, no drama, no angst, no corona story I've tried to write, I should probably warn you about the following:  
> \- bad grammar  
> \- bad spelling  
> please, please feel free to correct me, whenever I'm wrong, my writing always needs improvement.
> 
> Mature rating because all the main characters are over 21 years old and will be talking and or doing things underaged people shouldn't do or aren't allowed to do. Throughout the story such things include:  
> \- occasional use of swear words  
> \- casual use and abuse of alcohol (abuse of alcohol in the form of alcohol poisoning) mentioned  
> \- casual mentioning and discussing of sex, sexual fantasies and a few kinks  
> \- lots and lots of fake as fuck science  
> \- so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so many dialogues
> 
> Alright then, if you're not discouraged from reading yet: have fun and leave a comment if you like ;)

“Alright folks, it’s time to talk about your final assignments. Now remember, this project makes 55% of your grade, so you better not fuck it up. Yes, you can quote me on this, because it’s important. Got it? Good.”

Professor Serrano was probably one of the most chill teachers I have ever encountered in my entire life. He was also one of the strictest teachers, only 60% of the students taking his genetics courses get a passing grade. His motto was “tough love” and he was very good at it.  
“What is the assignment, you ask? First of all, I want you to pair up with your neighbour. I don’t care if you don’t know each other, _get to know_ each other. Now introduce yourselves. Come on, it’s not that hard.”

Sighing I turned to my left, but the girl in that seat was already involved in a conversation with someone else. On my right side sat a guy, who was offering me a small smile.  
“Hi, I’m Peter.” He reached out his hand and I shook it  
“Nice to meet you, Peter. I’m…-“, but I couldn’t finish my sentence, because the guy behind us decided to let out his cold and sneezed loudly.  
“Bless you.”, Peter and I said in unison to the guy, who mumbled an embarrassed _Thanks_. I quickly introduced myself to Peter again.

“Does everyone have a partner for the project now?”, Professor Serrano’s voice echoed through the lecture hall, his lips curling into a playful smile. “I want an invitation if you get married.” A rather small collective laugh was echoing through the hall.

“Alright, I uploaded a list of topics with multiple possible theses to each of them. Those can be used for your project of choice, but they’re also _suggestions_. I want you to look at them. Pick three, work out outlines for your research in order to prove these theses until next Monday. I’ll mail out the final list a week later. Do not pick two theses from one topic branch. Choose wisely and do you best.”

Professor Serrano looked around again and nodded to himself. “Good, I’m sure our TA George here can answer all your questions.” And with that he dismissed the class and we all packed up our bags.

“Hey, do you want to meet up for the project later?” Peter asked me on the way out of the lecture hall.  
“Sure.” I smiled. “Does five work for you?”  
“I have a class at four. Are you free now, by any chance?”  
A quick glance at my phone confirmed what my stomach had already indicated. “Yeah. Wanna go grab lunch?”  
“Lunch sounds great.”, he laughed. “I know the perfect place we can go to.”

We headed to the campus cafeteria, but, truly, it was great. The cafeteria was located on the bottom floor of one of the old campus buildings that had never really caught up with the modernity of the 21st century, which ultimately gave it it’s charm. The worn-out leather upholstery across the benches looked like they’ve seen one too many butts in all the decades (rumour had it that they were renewed back in 2009, but there was absolutely no evidence to support that claim.) and the wooden panels on the walls were bleached by the sunlight that flooded through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the south side of the wide room. There was a somewhat mouldy smell in the corner furthest from the food distribution, so the seats in that spot usually stayed empty and the linoleum with laminate optics has seen better days as well. But the interior, with all its flaws, was matched perfectly to the exterior of the ivy-covered brick building.

And the food was usually really good. They had a ‘Do it yourself’ – Burger Day once every two weeks, including a variety of ingredients for burgers, french fries and sweet potato fries as well as a small range of dips to choose from. And chocolate pudding.

We took out time at the food distribution and found two empty seats across from each other right by one of the windows, far away enough from the smelly corner.  
I was grateful when Peter turned out to be one of those people you could just ease into small talk with. We chatted a bit about the food and Professor Serrano and how we ended up in Boston.

“So, Peter, where are you from?”, I asked just as I was about to dip my fries into my mayonnaise and noticed that I had accidentally grabbed the ranch sauce instead. Yikes.

“I’m from New York City. Queens, actually.” He smiled softly, obviously fond of his hometown. “Where are you from?”

I sighed. “Boston, unfortunately.”

“Guess that explains your accent”, he laughed. “but why unfortunately? Bostin is beautiful. Sure, it’s not New York, but nothing compares to New York. Boston does make a good second though.”

“I grew up here, and don’t get me wrong, the MIT is great, incredible even. I’m honoured to be allowed to studied here,” and to pay off my student debts for the next 50 years. “but Stanford would’ve been great as well. Or Columbia. I just feel like I’m stuck here, you know?”

Peter nodded and placed two pieces of tomato on top of the lettuce on his burger. “I know I didn’t actually believe that I got accepted until I arrived here. I thought there might have been a mix-up or something.”

“I don’t think colleges like these make mistakes.”, I smiled. Peter hadn’t touched his mayonnaise yet – did he even eat mayonnaise? So far, he had dipped his fries into his chocolate pudding. “So, tell me about New York City.“

“You mean the greatest city in the world?” He smirked like he was a table tennis champion who had just accepted a beer pong challenge. Then he put on an exaggeratingly offended face. “Wait a second – have you never been to New York?”

“Well, no.” An onion slice slipped from my burger onto the plate. “That’s pretty much why I’m asking.”

“There is something seriously wrong with you.”, he stated jokingly. “Sure, I wasn’t going to say anything about the cheese-under-the-patty-debacle, but you have never been to New York? That probably explains why you don’t know how to put together a perfect burger.”  
I couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow, a smile tucked at the corners of my mouth: “Excuse you, I know perfectly well how to build a burger.”

“I don’t think so.”, he shook his head and took a sip from his water bottle. “C’mon, let’s change. May I?” He pointed at my half eaten, now onionless burger.

“Sure.”

“Great, here.” Peter took my plate and replaced it with his. “You really have to absorb all the ingredients at once.” He took my burger into his hands and nodded to me to do the same. I’ve honestly never eaten someone else’s food or generally considered sharing food like that, but this was really fun. And damn his burger tasted good. Really fucking good.

“Oh my God, you’re so not getting this back.” I smiled down at the burger. It was food heaven. “How did you do this? We chose exactly the same ingredients from the buffet.”

“Yeah, but I obviously have better taste than you.”, he laughed.

“I highly doubt that, it was just a lucky coincidence.”, I stated confidently and finally went for his mayonnaise, which he didn’t comment on. Instead, he just pushed it closer to the middle of the table with a knowing grin.

“We’ll see.”


End file.
